


The Garden

by MapleleafCameo



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleleafCameo/pseuds/MapleleafCameo
Summary: He’d always loved gardening, something not too many people knew, not even Bitty.





	The Garden

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the sadness. It needed to be shared, even if I'm the only one who reads it.
> 
> All characters belong to the amazing [Ngozi](http://ngoziu.tumblr.com) from her wonderful web comic [Check, Please!](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com)

It had rained the night before, a good soaking shower, allowing the dirt to turn easily under his spade, dark brown, rich soil, patiently waiting to receive new plants. He leaned into it a little, turned another clump and carefully bent over to shake out the grass roots. The weeds and grass had taken over the last few years, as Alicia had become more infirm and unable to keep up with the work.

 

Trying not to move too fast, shifting his weight to compensate for his leg and not wanting to overexert but the need to do something, anything drove him to keep at it.

 

He’d always loved gardening, something not too many people knew, not even Bitty. Working beside his mother in the between, after hockey and training, after the darker times, offered a soothing rhythm and response to stress, the simple act of nurturing and growing something, the satisfying tug of pulling weeds out of the ground.

 

The patch he worked on had been his when younger, set aside for a small vegetable patch, tomatoes, carrots, a few pepper plants, far too many zucchinis. His mother’s prize-winning roses, up nearer to the house, had fared somewhat better, but even he could tell they’d run wild and required some patience and taming. A herb garden hid under the overgrowth as well, and he thought Bitty might like it if he could dig it up, renew it.

 

Pausing for a moment to catch his breath and stretch his stiff leg, he looked over the backyard. He’d not talked to Bitty about what he’d like to do with the house and the yard but felt fairly confident whatever he suggested, Bitty would go along.

 

Bending down once again to shake off more dirt, he carefully returned an earthworm to the tilled soil.

 

He smiled softly, thinking of Bitty, still asleep, left behind in bed with a kiss on his forehead, a daily routine as old as the years they’d been together. Bitty would get up soon and start breakfast, but Jack couldn’t sleep in, even after retiring, too ingrained into his day.

 

Push, turn, bend, shake, the patch slowly exposed in the early morning light. A cheeky robin landed nearby, scooping up a fat earthworm, perhaps the one he’d put back. He scowled at it.

 

Noise from the house caught his attention, the slam of a screen door evoking images of forgotten years, playing, hiding, sulking. His mother would wait him out when he stormed out of the house, a fight with his father driving him to cool off in the backyard. Wetness on his cheeks startled him. He thought he’d finished crying.

 

Wiping his face, hoping Bits hadn't noticed, he bent down again and shook some more dirt. As he straightened, a warm arm reached around, hugged him from the side and a kiss lovingly placed on his cheek.

 

“Here, I made you that mint and chocolate tea you like.”

 

Jack frowned at the mug Bitty held out to him. “No coffee?”

 

“Uh, no. The doctor said you need to cut back, so this is cutting back.”

 

Muttering under his breath, he accepted the mug and let the spade clatter to the ground. He pulled Bitty closer to him, tucked him up to his side, properly placing him where he belonged and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

 

“Mmm, you smell better than coffee anyway.”

 

“Hush you.” Bitty slapped his chest, squeezed him harder and leaned in, surveying Jack’s work. “Please don't overdo it today. I know you feel the need, but be careful you don't put too much strain on your leg.”

 

Jack kissed his head again. The kissability of Bitty’s head increase exponentially the longer he stood by Jack’s side. “I won’t.”

 

The sun rose higher in the sky, shining down on the patch where they stood, reminding Jack exactly how much light would be captured in the garden.

 

Bitty fluttered a bit. Jack could tell from the way he vibrated against him, he wanted to say something more but hesitated to interrupt whatever was going through Jack’s head. It had been difficult, the months leading up to and following Alicia’s death but Bitty, like Alicia, knew when to wait him out.

 

“You want to ask me something?” He smiled down at Bitty, his beloved face fuller, a few careworn lines marking the difficulty of the past few years, between Bob’s death, Jack’s accident and now Alicia gone.

 

“Just wondering how you’re doing? I know you hate me asking, but…”

 

Grief is like a thick, worn blanket, weighing down spirit and hope, holding the person too tightly wrapped. It made it easier not to move on, to stay put, covered in sadness. The desire to remain under it increased unless kicked off and shook out. Jack knew the grief would be waiting to be picked up again, tuck him in but today he could leave it behind for a bit, shift it to the side.

 

He cleared his throat. “How do you feel about staying here, living in the house? I know it isn't really where we thought we’d end up, but it’s a beautiful piece of property. The pond freezes over in the winter, and there’s plenty of room for the kids to stay with us.”

 

Silence by his side gave him his answer. Bitty would hate it here. Never mind then.

 

But when he looked down, Bitty smiled up at him, his eyes as warm and brown as ever, the crinkles around them deeper with laughter than they’d ever been with sorrow. “I think that is a fine idea. Have you got plans for this garden? Because we could grow a mess of vegetables. It’s not too late to start some seedlings. There’s the orchard just up the road, and we know they have the best apples and pears around.”

 

“There’s a herb garden somewhere under here too I thought you’d approve of.”

 

Bitty bit his lip. “Will it be okay? All of these memories?”

 

Jack hummed a bit. “Yes, I think I need to be here. I need to listen for my mother and father for a bit. I’d forgotten what they sounded like as they grew older, do you know?”

 

“I think so. You want to remember them as they were when you were younger.”

 

Tears welled up again and spilled down his cheeks. Bitty raised a hand and carefully, cautiously wiped them off.

 

“I miss her so much. I miss Papa, too, but I miss her so much.” He cried, hand over his face. A hand reached up and gently removed the mug and set it down and arms went back around him. Bitty laid his head on Jack’s chest, and he rocked him slightly.

 

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

 

The sun rose, and the robin continued to hunt for worms. Bitty led Jack back to the house where they had breakfast.

 


End file.
